


Redeemed in the eyes of One

by ElderflowerX



Series: Once-Mighty Walls Come Crashing [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28070322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElderflowerX/pseuds/ElderflowerX
Summary: I felt like a more detailed description of how Grindelwald died would be interesting to write about. This is a series, I think I’ll be writing about Gellert and Albus’s reconciliation at King’s Cross.Characters are not owned by me, they belong the J.K Rowling and her Wizarding World.
Series: Once-Mighty Walls Come Crashing [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056248
Kudos: 1





	Redeemed in the eyes of One

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Redeemed in the eyes of One

————————

They said that he felt remorse in his later years in Nurmengard. 

They said he’d began to realize the horrors of what he and his Acolytes had caused. 

That, perhaps, was true. 

Alone and wasted, he lies on his cold, hard bed. Facing the dark ceiling. 

A storm blows outside. 

Rain patters against the window. The wind is howling and droplets dance on the ground. 

Gellert watches as a piece of plaster fall from the ceiling. It hits the ground with a soft thud. Sitting up, he bends over and picks it up. It is the only form of entertainment he can afford now.

The books that Albus- no, Dumbledore- had provided lay in a corner, unnoticed. The pages have been flipped countless times. They are yellowing with age, and the once handsome leather-bound covers are ragged and tatty. 

News of Dumbledore’s death had reached him several months ago. He did not know what to feel. Was it shock, or was it indifference? They had gone against each other’s beliefs, and yet... maybe his old friend had a point. 

He is alone at Nurmengard. While he goes on to become the most powerful wizard known, or so they said. 

He knows Dumbledore too well. 

He cracks the piece of plaster in his bony, wrinkled hand. It falls to the floor. There lie his once-great plans. Horrific. Malevolent. 

He thinks he felt a sort of a jolt in his stomach when the owl arrived. 

Perhaps he still had affection for the man, even after all these years? 

And they said, about that wizard considered more powerful than himself - Lord Voldemort. What a pathetic old fool, the liar.

Is he pure-blood as he pretends? Why, Gellert recalls his Muggle father... 

He really is such a fool. 

The bloody wizard cannot even understand how important trust is. He prefers to be feared, to be intimidating. He does not give a Hippogriff’s fart on the loyalties of his followers. 

What a stupid being.

He sees what the wizard actually is. He is an arrogant man who believes it is he who has penetrated the deepest secrets of magic. What was it actually, a couple of bloody Horcruxes? Top student of his time, yet unable to recognize love for what power it bore. 

It will not be long, he thinks, before he comes for Nurmengard. To seek him. 

What for? 

Knowledge on the Elder Wand. 

He could try. No matter how many people he slayed, how much magic he attempts to perform on it, the Wand will never be his. 

He will not receive the damned location. That is certain. Dumbledore- no matter the past events- deserves to rest in his marble tomb without an ugly white face sticking itself in, poking where it shouldn’t belong.

The rusty gates below creak. The wind is howling ever so. The moment is a mere minute or two away. 

The sound of crunching footsteps leading up the stairs. A door opens, and Gellert looks up at the white, waxy face, and the red slit-like pupils. 

“Well. If it isn’t Tom Riddle.” 

The man stands in the doorway. Heavy, green robes of velvet fall to his feet in graceful, eerie folds. The noseless face (had it finally been removed after sticking it everywhere?) looked down upon him, registering nothing but contempt and disdain. 

A high, cold voice fills the room. 

“I require- assistance- on the fabled-“ 

“I know.”

His own voice is emitted in a rasping tone. His throat constricts, but he keeps talking anyway. 

“You will not obtain your knowledge, Voldemort! What makes you think I will surrender the location of a wand I have never laid hands on?”

“LIAR!” A ringing voice echoes across the walls. The slit-like pupils dilate in anger. His right hand is swinging towards his wand pocket. 

But Gellert finds that he no longer cares. 

“You can try,” he hissed. “Torture me, kill me, I give no information. What good does a powerful wand do for a stupid, power-hungry fool like you?” 

The man’s rage is quite evident now. He whips out his wand and directs it at him. Gellert laughs. 

“Kill me then, Voldemort, I welcome death! Whatever you do, you can try... but the Wand will never, ever be yours!” 

A scream of rage rippled the air as the wand was brought down in a slash. A burst of green light, and Gellert Grindelwald was lifted from the bed. He hit the hard surface, but he had already gone.


End file.
